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since the death of Henry II. Similar circumstances produced similar effects Louis XIV. had even some advantages in point of situation over Augustus. In France as at Rome, the people sighed only for repose and an established authority. Legitimate power, established on the most ancient basis, gave the young King, at the very beginning of his reign a firmness, which Augustus, the usurper, could obtain only from time and the benefits of his reign.

mon inspiration, courageous minds performed | desolated France almost without intermission ever great actions, which great talents immortalized on canvass and in marble. The theatre arose; arusts became more numerous, and monuments multiplied heroes. A picturesque religion, mingled heaven with earth in a concurrence of reciprocal passions; the pencil and the chisel in the hands of Phidias and Apelles, were solely occupied in producing images of the gods, of heroes and of beauty; while the lyre and the fate united their melodious tones to embellish the hymns of Callimachus, the strains of Pindar and the odes of Anacreon. Such is the picture of that period of attic politeness which for a short time blessed a soil fertile in prodigies, and enveloped in an atmosphere of voluptuousness.

The blood of Henry IV. and St. Louis, which, for so many ages had rendered the glory of a single family the glory of the whole nation, was more venerable to the French, than it was possible for the fable of Venus and Anchises to be to the Romans. The youth of the King, his graceful person, his wit, the greatness of his character, that mixture of Spanish dignity and Italian elegance, which he had acquired from Anne of Austria and the Cardinal Mazarine, filled all his subjects with admiration, affection and enthu siasm; and it might be asserted of him with more truth than Virgi! said of Augustus: "He reigns over people who willingly submit to his laws." Every heart was opened to love, joy and hope; all were prepared to receive agreeable impressions. What dispositions could be more favourable to the introduction of the arts, of letters, and of politeness of manners!

Rome, barbarous and flushed with conquest, incessantly agitated by civil dissensions, by the continual struggles of ambition for power, retained the rud-ness of her manners in the midst of her triumphs. To no purpose did subjugated Greece adorn with her spoils the capital of the conquerors of the world; the love of arts and of letters, and the politeness of manners, which is so intimately connected with it, could never gain a footing in their ferocious hearts. The monuments of genius transplanted to Rome remained strangers to them, and served rather for trophies than models, till Marius, Scylla, Pompey, Cæsar, those scourges of their country and avengers of the world, had at length by their atrocities and disasters, created a necessity for the government of Augustus. Every thing then assumed a new form: the gates of the temple of Janus were shut; all the violent passions, restrained by authority, became tranquillized, and were lulled to sleep; repose and felicity softened every mind, and rudeness disap-rejects at once, without reflection or calculation;

peared. The love of pleasure, so natural to peaceful man, the sensibility, arising from pleaSure, or the expectation of it, taste, politeness and the graces were every where displayed, and assigned to this historical epoch a distinguished place in history.

The age of Louis XIV. the comparison of which to the age of Augustus does honour to the latter*, likewise succeeded civil wars which had

To persons not divested of classic prejudices, this assertion will perhaps appear exaggerated; but if it be considered that the age of Augustus was distinguished only by letters, and that elegance of manners, which cannot be appreciated but by contemporaries; while the age of Louis XIV. was that of all arts, of all talents, of all genius, from Turenne to la Quintinie, from Bos. suet to Lenôtre, we shall be astonished at this prodigious fecundity of nature at one period, and shall acknowledge is without either a model or a copy in history.

No. XX. Vol. III.

What then is taste, what is grace, what is their effect on society, and how can they alter manners?

Taste is a delicate touch of sensibility applied to agreeable objects. Its judgment is the result of the impressions it has received. It adopts or

it consists entirely in emotion. It is independent of rules, for it preceded, nay it made them; and before the understanding has combined the proportions and proprieties, taste has decided: it has judged, because it has felt. It may be said that tas e is the consciousness of beauty. Those two principles have, in fact, one common source, sensibility affected by moral sentiments, or by agreeable sentiments. How fertile is this principle of sensibility! The discovery of the nature of the human soul, which is acknowledged to be the principle of love, is the sure basis of inorality and of arts as well as of religion. This discovery gives birth to a new system of metaphysics, which proposes for the object of its researches the whole theory of the affections, as the other embraces in its speculations the whole theory of the ideas,

Ideal beauty, that torch of genius which

"What is religion?" says Pascal, "God sensible to the heart."

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illuminated the statuary and the painter, is nothing but moral beauty, intellectual beauty, applied to the arts of imitation. 'Tis there that Phidias

found the head of his Olympian Jupiter; thence Raphael borrowed the sublime traits of his transfiguration, and Michael Angelo the sombre touches of his last judgment. The terrible, the graceful and sublime, issue alike from this com

mon source,

In society, where to please is every thing; gracefulness is the subline in manners; but it can only be acquired by not being sought after; it is the natural fruit of a mind happily formed, or so improved by cultivation and experience of the world, that amiable habits have become perfectly natural.

In fact, grace is the unstudied expression of an amiable sentiment left totally uncontroled; it has its source in truth, its form in negligence, which betrays the truth; it shews it, because it does not think any one is looking on: it is the chaste Diana surprized by Endymion. Grace shines in a word, in a gesture, in a look, in a smile, in an attitude, in every thing that strikes without intending to be remarked; the smallest degree of pro para ion destroys it; 'tis like the powder on flowers, which is removed by the most delicate touch, by the slightest breath of air. Such is grace in manners; such also is grace in style and in works of art. In all, it is a tender and easy sentiment, which is when unadorned the most adorned; 'tis that delicate art or that happy nature which have so eminently distinguished Virgil and Racine among the poets, and Raphael and Corregio among the pinters. As to manners, they are fugitive like their objects; it is impossible to fix models for them; a delicate and practised taste alone can seize them in society.

vicissitude of fortune, would all diffuse over the features of the aged monarch a particular grace, the expression of which it belongs to genius to divine; for every air, the accent, and gesture, all the tones and inflections are in nature. The soul placed in a proper situation seems to create them; it is only necessary to feel them, and the artist who attempts to reproduce the scene, must try all the tones of nature, and select that which is in unison with his own heart. This can only be the effect of delicate sensibility.

La Fontaine says:

"Et la grâce plus belle encore que la beauté."

This expression is most strictly true; for if I may venture to say so, beauty is always but imaginary. A certain arrangement of features, a certain aspect of the physiognomy indicate a certain disposition of the soul. I anticipate good. humour, intelligence, sensibility. 'Tis moral beauty that we love, to this the heart flies with ardor; but yet it may all be feigned: Medea knew how to render herself beautiful. In grace it is impossible to be mistaken; it fulfils all the promises of beauty; I cannot be deceived, for I have beheld the soul.

Taste is the delicate sentiment of what pleases the heart, and grace is the true and unstudied expression of an amiable sentiment. We have shewn the application of these principles to the fine arts: let us now endeavour to apply them to the analysis of manners. It would be very difficult to define politeness considered as an art; for the rapidity and multiplicity of circumstances afford no time for the calculations of reflections; there a wrong stroke of the crayon cannot be effaced; the eff. ct is already produced. But, it is not nature that we have to imitate; 'tis our own impressions which it is our business to render; 'tis nature herself that we must carefully cultivate before hand.

and captivates the hearts of the auditors by the beauty of its sentiments. We shall, in like manner, assert, that politeness+ is only the expression of a good disposition, which, by its very good. ness, pleases and attracts.

These observations give us occasion to correct a vulgar error which seems to attach the graces Quintilian defined an orator to be " a good exclusively to voluptuousness. Wherever a man, skilful in speaking." Thus, according to tender and amiable sentiment is expressed with that gr at master, eloquence is only the expres truth and negligence, there is also grace. A pic-sion of a noble and upright mind, which moves ture of Henry IV. besieging Paris, and representing that excellent Prince sending bread to his rebellious subjects, reduced to such extremities as to eat the bones from charnel-houses, might be made a subject replete with grace. The painter would have only to infuse into that august head the celestial expression of supernatural benevolence, and as Raphael has done in the Transfiguration, to place a divine head upon a human body. The aged Priam, demanding of Achilles the body of Hector, would likewise be a graceful sub. ject. That dignity of a great mind, which reigns over its misfortunes; that paternal tenderness which covers and absords the humiliation of the conquered; that resignation which has known every

A delicate sentiment of what is due to one's self and to others, and an acute judgment, which at one view comprehends circumstances and their varieties, these are the basis of that art of

↑ "Politeness does not always produce benevolence, equity, complaisance, gratitude; it gives at least the appearance of them, and makes the man appear without what he ought to be within." La Bruyere,

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A few months after this, father Bruno was laid flight, as though full of terror, and conscious of

the danger which had threatened them Friedbert followed them with his eyes, and, certain that his plan had succeeded, determined to assume the

in the silent grave by his adopted son. All the inhabitants of the neighbouring mountains deeply lamented his loss, and performed frequent pilgrimages to the spot where he was interred.-appearance of sanctity; and lighting his lamp, Time, however, diminished the crowds that resorted to this holy sepulchre; but solitude suited Friedbert's romantic disposition, and he rejoiced at the liberty he enjoyed.

At length the summer solstice appeared, and the young hermit never failed to repair every morning and evening to the cabin of reeds, and attentively contemplated the smooth surface of the lake. Long did he wait in vain, but at last he perceived, about noon, three handsome swans, that wheeled their majestic flight at an uncommon elevation above the glassy waters, as though desirous to ascertain whether any mortal were lurking in ambush. The reeds effectually screened Friedbert from their glances, and they descended slowly into the bosom of the lake. || When, in a few minutes, three young virgins, holding each other by the hand, appeared sporting amidst the cooling waves, and presented the loveliest group which ever greeted the sight of

man.

in order to attract the beautiful nightly wanderer, knelt in his grotto and seemed to count his beads with religious attention.

He presently heard a slight noise, like that of a timid footstep, which feared to betray itself while treading on the yielding sand. The wily hermit appeared still more wrapped in prayer; but, at length, perceiving he was observed, he slowly arose, and cast his eyes towards the door.

He then beheld his lovely prisoner, decked in all the charms of her age and sex; with a countenance that expressed the liveliest sorrow, and the pangs of alarmed modesty.

The first glance captivated the affections of the tender Friedbert; and when her delicate lips opened to address him, he listened enraptured to her melodious voice, but could not understand the words she spoke, her language being quite unknown to him.

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He, however, guessed that she was entreating him to return her the plumage which he had stolen, but feigned not to comprehend her, and

had nothing to fear while under his protection.

He shewed her a neat and comfortable bed in a separate part of the grotto, presented her some excellent fruits and preserves, and attempted

After having displayed the beauty and elegance of their shape in a thousand playful atti-only sought to make her sensible that her virtue tudes, the ravishing strangers began to sing. But though filled with the liveliest sensations of delight, Friedbert did not yield to the pleasing intoxication; and recollecting Bruno's advice, softly quitted his shelter, and stealing unper-by every means in his power, to win her conceived to the shore, snatched the dazzling plu-fidence.. mage, which the agitation of the water had rolled at his feet. Near it he perceived habits of seagreen and flesh-colours; but as the plumage was

But the afflicted maiden seemed unconscious of all around her, and abandoning herself to grief sobbed aloud. The good-natured hermit was so

affected at witnessing the sorrow which he had occasioned, that he could not refrain from tears; and played his part so well, that the lovely stranger seemed to feel some consolation from the sympathy which he expressed.

She no longer suspected him of having taken

but my mother never accompanied us; for my father, tormented by jealousy, strictly confined her, preferring the loss of her charms to the possibility of her preserving them for any one but himself. This prohibition has entirely deprived her of her youth and beauty. My father is now

her plumage, but mentally entreated his forgive-dead, and my mother spends her widowhood in

ness for having accused him. She now wished to discover some means by which she might make her benevolent host comprehend the cause of her grief.

The first night was spent in sadness; but at the first dawning of the morning Friedbert performed his usual devotions, which the young stranger was not displeased to observe. She even partook of some breakfast with him, and then hastened to seek, on the banks of the lake, for her lost plumage, which she at last fancied had been carried away by the light breath of the evening gale. The officious hermit seemed as active as herself in searching for her treasure, which he knew very well was not in her power to discover. This employment renewed in some degree the grief of the beautiful descendant of the fairy race; but the blood which warms their veins flows more cheerfully than that of mortals; sorrow is soon effaced from their hearts, like the shades of night from the surface of the earth. By degrees she became accustomed to her situation, and her countenance brightened like the sky after a summer's shower. She likewise felt reconciled to the companion of her solitude, and her eyes sometimes rested with pleasure on the animated and pleasing countenance of the young hermit. He observed this with internal joy; and, by every attention that love could suggest, sought to deserve and increase the favourable sentiments she already evinced for him. Love had metamorphosed the common good sense of the soldier into a refined understanding, and had given him the faculty of fathoming all the hidden recesses of the female heart; it also inspired them with the means of comprehending each other. It was, however, long before Friedbert's curiosity could be gratified respecting the young stranger's country, name, and condition in life; but by the assistance of their new language, he learned at length that the fair maid was a Grecian, but his pleasure and surprise greatly encreased when he discovered that she owed her birth to Prince Zeus and the lovely Zoe, of Naxos, so long the object of Bruno's attach

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cheerless solitude; we lived with her, far removed from my uncle's court, who has succeeded our father in the government of the Cyclades, and never quitted her but during our journies to the fairy baths.

My eldest sisters took, a few years ago, the imprudent determination of steering their flight towards the west, against my mother's advice. During this journey, which we carefully concealed from her, we met with no accident; and as we were less incommoded by the heat of the sun than when we crossed the Desarts of Egypt, we continued to repair to this lake until 1 became the victim of my sisters' fully.

"Where does that wicked magician conceal himself," continued the maid, "who watched the nymphs in the bath, to steal a plumage which can prove of no utility to him? Conjure him, holy man, to descend from the regions of the sky, if they be his dwelling, or rise from the bosom of the earth, and command him to restore me that invaluable treasure which distinguishes my race from the rest of mortals."

Pleased with Calista's error, for such was the name of the fair Grecian, Friedbert related to her the wild frolics of the Prince of the Genii, who, he affirmed, took a malicious delight in tormenting the bathers. He told her also that he had no power over spirits; but he had heard of a certain sylph, who had likewise lost her feathers, but found a faithful lover, who dispelled every feeling of regret.

Comfort seemed to drop from the lips of the youth; yet, notwithstanding the beauties which nature had strewed around, their solitude appeared tiresome; but no sooner had the complaisant hermit been made acquainted with the wishes of her heart, than he declared his readiness to forsake the lonely grotto; but at the same time informed her that nothing could indemnify him for this sacrifice, but domestic happiness in the arms of a virtuous wife. While uttering these last words, he fixed his eyes on her with such expressive tenderness, that his meaning was no longer doubtful. She blushed and looked down, but Friedbert understood her answer. From that moment he exerted himself in making the necessary preparations for their departure; and after having resumed his military garb, set off with his lovely companion for Suabia.

In this province there is a small town called Eglis.u, there Friedbert's mother resided. Not

having heard from her son for so long a time, she concluded that he had been killed in battle; and never failed to bestow a trifle on every maimed soldier who stopped before her door on his return from the army. She asked a thousand questions about her dear Friedbert; and often did an artful invalid impose on her some story respecting her son,-told her how bravely he had fought and honourably fallen, and how many blessings he had sent her with his dying breath. She then never failed to set before him a bottle of her best wine, while tears fell from her eyes, and her heart throbbed with grief.

A messenger on horseback at last announced one day that the brave Friedbert had not perished in the wars, but was returning to his native land crowned with riches which he had won in the east, from which place he had brought back a bride of exquisite beauty, the Sultan of Egypt's daughter, with immense treasures for her por

tion.

now to much advantage since he had changed the hermit's cloak for the dress of a knight She, therefore, overlooked the difference of their rank, and consented to bestow her hand upon him.

The wedding clothes were purchased, the hour fixed, and the good mother had superintended all the preparations for the festival, when the day previous to the ceremony the bridegroom went on horseback, according to the custom of the country, to give invitations to his friends. Calista, meanwhile tried on her splendid dress, but perceiving something which required to be altered, sent for her mother-in-law to ask her advice. When the old woman approached, she burst forth into exclamations of praise upon the beauty, elegance and grace of her daughter, and at last on the habit itself, but when she perceived that Calista's opinion differed from hers, she immediately changed her tone, lest she should betray her ignorance of the prevailing fashions. The young Grecian's chief objection rested on the aukward form of her head-dress. "Why," said she, sighing," have I not on my wedding day my beautiful feathers, as light and dazzling as

Such were the modest reports of fame, yet they were not without some foundation; he had found in Bruno's grotto a sum large enough to support the rank of a knight, and augmented his suite as he approached the place of his nativity.flakes of descending snow. I should have proved

He had purchased horses superbly caparisoned, and wore, as well as the lovely Calista, the most splendid apparel.

When the inhabitants of Augsburg saw the cavalcade passing through their streets, they hailed their brother citizen with shouts of joy. His relations, even to his tenth cousins, as well as a large party of his townsmen, headed by the magistrates, advanced to meet him, with the city flag unfurled, while bagpipes and hautboys proclaimed his arrival. Joy and pride sparkled in the eyes of Friedbert's mother as she embraced her son. She gave a great entertainment, to which all her friends were invited, and distributed among the poor the whole contents of her purse. The town resounded with the praises of the beautiful Grecian; and many knights, who were great admirers of beauty, eagerly sought Friedbert's acquaintance. One called him his fellow-soldier, another his old friend, a third his cousin, and all were profuse in his protestations of friendship.

The object of his former passion had been for some time married, and therefore her family was no longer exasperated against our young soldier; and since he had acquired riches, he also found means of palliating his conduct towards bis captain. The fair stranger alone occupied all his thoughts; and as she saw so prospect of ever returning to her own country, she felt no reluctance in becoming the bride of a young man in the bloom of youth, and who appeared

an object of envy to all the young maidens of the city, and then indeed you might have praised my beauty. This ornament of my country women is no longer mine, and I have lost the jewel which spreads resistless charms over its possessor, and captivates the heart of every beholder."

A tear, the child of painful recollection, stole down Calista's cheek as she spoke these words, and the kind heart of her mother-in-law was melted, and she could no longer refrain from betraying a secret, which had been entrusted to her, and which she had long wished to reveal. Her son had related to her how he had acquired the plumage without telling her its properties, and had consigned it to her care as a pledge of affection, enjoining her to conceal it from every eye. Pleased with this opportunity of communicating her secret; (( weep not, my dear child," she exclaimed, "the brightness of your eyes must not be dimmed with tears, and regret spoil the joys of your wedding day. Your feathers are perfectly safe, they are in my possession, and since you long so much for them, I will instantly restore them to you, provided you promise not to betray me to your husband." Calista remained mute with astonishment; she felt the most lively joy at finding her lost plumage, and the bitterest resentment at the deception which Friedbert had practised upon her. She had, however, recovered in some degree from her surprize, when the old woman returned, and

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